


We Could Pretend

by Zippit



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Community: Towerparty, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-07
Updated: 2015-09-07
Packaged: 2018-04-19 11:43:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4745060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zippit/pseuds/Zippit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha goes to ground, away from her boys, and it's Clint's job to handle it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Could Pretend

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the hurt/comfort lightning round at [towerparty](http://towerparty.livejournal.com).
> 
> [paperclipbitch](http://paperclipbitch.livejournal.com)'s prompt was: "you're afraid of what you need; if you weren't, i don't know what we'd talk about"

She disappears from them like they mean nothing. If Clint didn’t know better he’d be offended, they all would. Instead he focuses on finding her in their unofficial, official command center. He’s dressed in jeans and a worn t-shirt because it’s one of those days. Nat knows better than to disappear when she’s needed. She’s the Black Widow and that counts for a lot in her books, good and bad. It’s exactly why she chose today to disappear.

He leans back in the swivel chair, hands behind his head, while the computers do their thing. It should be Nat in here with fingers flying over the keyboard, not him. He growls low in frustration when the first reports come back. She’s disabled her tracker. Not the end of the world. It just means he’ll be doing this the hard way, the pen and paper way.

Bucky steps up beside him and makes a “hrrmph” at the screens. “One of those, huh?”

“Yup. But we know where she likes to bolt. It won’t take too long for us to find her.”

“If she wants to be found.”

Clint shrugs. Bucky may have a point. She could make this infinitely difficult on them. But that’s not why she did it. She just needed a few hours alone to get her head on straight. “You and Steve tagging along or just me?”

He’s the one that’s known, _really_ known, Nat the longest and when she gets like this he usually manages to find a way to get through. Steve and Bucky haven’t always had the best luck. Each of them has managed to make it worse in some way.

Bucky gives the screens another long look. “Think we’ll sit this one out. We’ll be here though.”

Clint nods then shoves up from his seat. “I’ll keep you in the loop.” He pauses then grips Bucky’s shoulder with a tight squeeze. “Don’t worry. She’ll come around. I know you two have things to talk about.”

“They…made and unmade us in similar ways. Sometimes I’m not sure we were meant to remember.”

“Don’t talk like that. It’ll all work itself out, trust me.” He grins at Bucky and that earns him a familiar eye roll.

“We must love you a lot to put up with this.”

His grin gets even cheekier. “Mmhm. Now, excuse me, I have to go find our errant Black Widow.” With another wave, Clint heads out of the command center and outside into the streets of Brooklyn. It was a supersoldier selection since the both of them had grown up there and he still had his place in Bed-Stuy if he needed it while Nat hadn’t put up a fight. He wonders if they shouldn’t have overlooked that. He can deal with that later. Right now, he just needs to find her.

~*~*~*~

The third location hits paydirt like he figured it would. In one hand he has a coffee fixed exactly the way she likes and a bag filled with her favorite self-indulgent candies. Not all chocolate because that has bad associations for her. He lets himself in with the key that’s in addition to the palm and retina scanner. A place like this located in the city, where they can retreat to if necessary and stocked for Armageddon, needs all the extra security measures they can all dream up.

“Tasha?” Clint calls out into the stillness of the apartment. He secures the door behind him and makes his way upstairs to the indoor balcony. It has an unobstructed view of the skyline and the humanity that lives within the busy streets.

He doesn’t see her at first, buried amongst the pillows on the balcony couch, until a flicker of red hair catches his eye. He loves her natural color more than anything and hates it when she dyes it on missions. She willingly let him spot her so that meant things were a little better than when she’d disappeared this morning. He’ll take everything he can get.

Clint walks closer, easing himself down into the spot next to her. She’s tucked into the couch corner wearing one of Bucky’s sweatshirts with its hood pulled up. It drowns her but it isn’t the first time she’s wanted to be close but couldn’t stand physical touch. The shirt showing itself under the collar is one of Steve’s old ones, well worn, faded, and soft to the touch.

He holds out the coffee wordless and she gives him the hint of a smile in thanks. Her hands wrap around the sides and she takes a small sip. He pulls the box of candies out next and sets it on the table in front of them before sliding close enough to wrap an arm around her shoulders. His gaze flicks down to the purple and he smiles. The sweatpants are his with their purple stripe down the side.

Natasha doesn’t lean into him, doesn’t even relax, until several breaths later. She’ll talk in her own time. Right now, she needs him to be there even though every instinct in her is telling her different. The rain starts outside and he watches it sluice down the glass. He can’t hear anything but the matched rhythm of their breathing. It’s easy enough to let himself slip into that sniper headspace where every breath is the space between eternity and the next.

He narrows back into his body when his equilibrium shifts. He blinks to find Tasha tilted into his side and she’s halfway through her coffee. Her hand’s curled around his on her shoulder. “You okay?”

“Could be better” is the faint reply. “Rest of you boys?”

“Holding the fort down.” She snorts. All he can see is the rise and fall of her chest and the waving of a few strands of hair when she speaks.

“You mean too scared of getting shit wrong to come find me.”

Clint shrugs his free shoulder. She’s not wrong but that fear comes from wanting a lot of things they don’t do well. Living the majority of one’s life either buried in ice or mindwiped every other day doesn’t do well for anyone’s social skills, not that he’s the best example out there either. “You know, it doesn’t matter. It’s what _you_ want that matters.”

She makes a disgruntled noise and rubs her cheek against his chest. The sound of rain overtakes the room again while he trails his fingers up and down her arm. His hearing’s not that great as it is and when the muffled noise finally reaches his ears he hopes he hasn’t missed anything. “Hmm?”

Natasha lifts her head with a sigh and meets his gaze. “I just want my boys and my past to stay the past. Is that really so much to ask?”

Her eyes narrow and the fond look she says he gets must be stealing over his face. He brushes his thumb along her cheek. “You know it’s not and we would all wipe it from history if we could.”

It’d been Bucky they’d had to chase to ground the last time and it might still be him coming next. What’s sent Tasha running has tendrils hooked into his past. Her eyes blaze then and she pulls back to face him with all the strength and steel spine they couldn’t train in or out of her. “We’re going after them.”

What he was going to say dies and he grins. “Like that would ever be a question. They’re yours, and his, and we’re going to make sure they’re found and loved.”

They may have stripped the choice from her but she was stronger than that. She would always be more than that too. She would always be greater than anything they would try to reduce her to.

“But tomorrow?” Her voice breaks into his thoughts like it always will. “Tell the boys to come here?”

He sends a quick text and they’ll be there in twenty minutes but until then he’s going to enjoy the time he has holding onto Tasha.


End file.
